Let's Talk
by NCR
Summary: Ana finds a job as a radio-show host; but it's not your average radio show. It's specifically all about sexuality. Her co-host? The sexy, cocky, copper-haired Christian Grey. What kind of trouble can these two get into? AU. OOC. Bitchy Ana and Playful Christian.
1. Chapter 1

My skirt is too tight. To make things worse, my ass is burning from the thin strip lodged between my buttocks. Kate just insisted that I had to wear a thong when wearing tight skirts, because panty lines are "_so not in style._"

I inconspicuously try to adjust my underwear so that no one sees, but it doesn't help much. The thong is still rubbing in all the wrong ways and I'm surrounded by a bunch of people-I can't just dig into my ass in front of everyone.

Now that would be "_so out of style_."

I cross and uncross my legs, trying to get into a position that isn't so uncomfortable. I know I probably look like I have to pee, which just adds to my already awkward demeanor.

Today is my first day at my new job.

My dream job.

Me, Anastasia Steele, is now a co-host for the radio show Late Night Talks on WZYX 99.7.

It's a radio show, no ones going to see me, but Kate just insisted I needed to make a great impression. Her exact words were, "There is only 20% of female solo radio hosts, Ana! If you want to have your own show one day, your boss has to at least think you're hot. It's a sure fire way that he'll keep you around. Play the game right, honey. Use these," She barbarically grabs my chest, "and this." She points to my head, implicating that she means my brain.

Katherine Kavanaugh: anti-feminist and unaware of personal boundaries.

But lo and behold I still listened to her. She had a point. Every solo radio host at WZYX was a male-I checked.

So it's me against them, and we all know men stick with men. I've already got talent, looking good couldn't hurt that much. I inwardly groan, however, as I think about it.

Really, Ana? A workplace full of men?

Ugh, I sincerely hope I won't be their source of entertainment.

I look at my watch. 10:45 pm.

It's fifteen minutes and still no sign of my boss, where could he be? Please don't tell me he's completely forgotten about the job he employed me with a week ago.

Some people are messing with the sound technology, other are working on the mics, others are lounging in the corner laughing and joking, and then there's me.

Squirming around in a hard, uncomfortable chair.

Okay, Steele, it's time to put on your big girl panties-which I guess I've kinda already done.

If my boss won't find me, then I'll find him.

I pull down my skirt, which has ridden up as I was sitting and start to walk down the hallway in search of the short, pudgy man I call my boss.

Leonard Smalls. That's his name. I'll try not to wear it out.

Leonard-which is quite a dorky name if I say so myself-is big in all the wrong places. His head is a fat, round stump on top of his neck, which is balding by the way. He has only a small patch of hair on the sides, which are permanently curled from the sweat that always builds up on his body.

The first thing I noticed about him was the stench. Underneath his arms, atop his head, his palms even, were large puddles of sweat. I wasn't too thrilled to shake his hand, but Leonard is a sweet man.

He's not a looker, he's actually kind of rough on the eyes-but he's a good person. Very warm and caring. I'm quite happy to have him as my first ever serious boss.

As I continue down the hallway, keeping my skirt from inching up and trying to keep my balance in the tall heels I'm wearing-I'm stopped by a man.

Not my boss. I roll my eyes.

"Hi, my names Mike. You're new here, right?" He asks.

Mike is tall, with dusty blonde hair and ocean blues eyes. His demeanor is warm and I think we'll be great friends. He seems like a nice man. Or boy, I should say. Of course I have no room to talk, I'm only 22. But Mike still has a baby face, his cheeks round and chubby. It's actually kind of cute.

Mike stares down at me with a smile on my face, waiting for me to reply.

I smile back. "Yes, I'm Ana. It's really nice to meet you."

I outstretch my hand, waiting for him to accept my offer of a handshake.

He does.

His hands are rough and large, but yet warm at the same time.

"It's nice to meet you too. So what do you plan on doing here? I'm a sound technician. I work on all the mics and wiring," he says proudly, a twinkle in his eyes.

Boys and their toys.

I still smile, however, at his enthusiasm.

"Sound technician, huh? That's cool, but I couldn't do that. I'm not too great with technology.."

Who the hell am I kidding? It takes me an hour just to work my coffee maker.

"But, I'm here to-"

My sentence that was about to be delivered to Mike is cut short by a loud crash. Both of us turn to find the source of the sound and we find out it's coming from the recording room.

Two men are fighting, one with slicked back blonde hair, the gel glistening from the bright lights filtered around the room.

The blonde man has a scar on his cheek, right under his left eye. It's deep and pink, the gash crooked and jagged. It looks like it was painful.

I shudder from the ominous look in his eyes. They're blue, but are almost black from the intensity with which he holds. The man he's looking back at has copper hair that is dreadfully unruly.

_Gosh, doesn't he own a comb?_

I can't see his face, since it is obscured by Mr. Smalls, who's trying to keep everything and everyone under control. However, I can imagine his face, and it's probably just as unruly as his hair.

I imagine a long, scruffy beard, small, beady eyes, and an unkempt clothing attire.

Mr. Smalls escorts out the blonde haired man, grabbing him roughly by the collar.

I've never seen Mr. Smalls so mad.. But I guess that's due to the fact that I only met him once and that was a week ago.

They both make their way out into the hallway, my boss looking flustered, enraged, and even more sweaty than usual, and the blonde haired man has a weird, crooked grin on his face.

It almost matches the scar on his cheek. I shudder, standing closer to the wall as they walk past us.

"Ana, you're on in ten minutes. Go in the recording room and Christian'll tell you want to do. You're on with him tonight."

I sigh. Of course he would put me with the psycho MMA fighter my first night. I nod my head though and suck it up.

I turn towards Mike and he looks impressed with my job description.

"Duty calls, see you around," I say.

"Yeah, definitely," Mike enthuses.

My heart is warmed from the genuine and excited smile graced on his face.

That guy is going to be my best friend. Well, second-best, best friend. Kate would shit herself if she found out she was being replaced.

As I walk away from Mike and towards the psychotic man in the recording room, my heart starts to pound. Not because I'm afraid of him-I don't think he's that crazy, but because this is my first night on-air! My first night being exposed to an audience much bigger than my parents and Kate.

This is really happening to me. My palms are getting sweaty and there's butterfly's dancing around in my stomach. _This is it._

This moment can make or break my career.

As I walk into the room, I realize that it might not be my hosting skills that could break me, but it very well could be the man standing in front of me.

"Hi, I'm Christian."

_Oh god._

Remember that face I imagined that went along with that unruly hair?

It was wrong.

Completely and utterly wrong.

No, Christian was not a scrub. He was a model. A statue chiseled to perfection. The guy every middle-aged woman imagines when she's reading one of those smutty romance novels.

Christian was perfect...

Then I woke up from the haze I was in.

Yes, he has a pretty face, but I'm _not_ going to be like all those stupid girls I imagine he has fawning over him.

This is a work environment, and I will not allow him to have me flustered.

Although I wouldn't really mind if he had me flustered...

Daytime or nighttime.

In a bed, or a shower... Maybe even a car.

_Oh my god, no. Stop those thoughts now, Steele._

"I'm Ana," I murmur brusquely.

I am _soo_ not going to act like a skittish little girl with a high school crush.

I'm Anastasia Steele, goddamnit. Nobody messes me up.

I push past his outstretched hand and make my way into the recording seats. There is a large mic sat in front of me, with headsets next to it.

I start to put on my headsets when the sex god stops me.

"Do you want a wire or a mic?" He asks politely.

Now that I look at him again, he has a really, really sweet face.

His eyes are a peculiar shade of grey, but the warmth in them is palpable. Underneath his eye is a small red bump, which I'm guessing is going to turn into a purplish-blue bruise by tomorrow.

The blonde haired guy must've given him that for sure. I never understood why people fight. Just remove yourself from the situation without getting physical.

It's quite easy to do.

"Um.. I don't know, what do you suggest?" I ask, meekly.

I don't feel comfortable being too rude when he's being nothing but polite.

I'm surprised, actually. I was expecting him to be a domineering, cocky, rude asshole.

"Well, it depends. If you're relaxed and the topics that we get don't get you riled up, then use the mic. But, if you're a person who really gets into a topic, then you should probably get a wire.

"You know, so you can stand up, pace the room, ya know?" He says, his hands gesturing while he talks to emphasize his point.

Hmm, what kind of person am I?

"I'll take the wire," I state matter-of-factly.

"Good choice, me too."

_Oh, yeah. I know you get riled up.._ I say mentally.

He passes me a small instrument with a microphone at the top, and a medium- sized, square box at the base.

I'm guessing the box holds all the audio equipment that allows us to be heard.

Christian turns on the box, so it lights up green. He clips it behind him to his belt buckle and clips the microphone part on his shirt collar.

Christian is dressed quite relaxed. No dress pants, no suit or tie... And it only adds to make him look sexier. He's just dressed simply.

I copy his actions and soon we're both mic-ed up... Or wired up, I guess I should say.

"All right, you ready?" He asks.

I nod.

Ha. No I'm not. I'm nervous as shit, I'm probably going to piss myself any minute now.

I really should've used the bathroom before I came in here.

"Oh, yeah, this is your first time. I almost forgot," he exclaims.

"Yep. Hopefully I won't make a fool of myself," I mumble.

"So you're a radio-show virgin, huh? Don't worry, I'm really good with virgins," he winks.

My stomach drops at his double-meaning.

Never mind, he _is_ a cocky asshole.

Mike stumbles into the room to check to see if everything is okay with our audio and if everything is hooked up correctly.

Another man stumbles in a minute before we're on-air and checks to see if the control buttons are working.

Everything seems to be working perfectly, so our show is definitely going on tonight.

"And in five... Four... Three.."

He holds up his fingers for two and one.

"Hello, everybody! You're listening to Late Night Talks on WZYX 99.7.

For our regular listeners, you should already know who I am,"

I quirk my eyebrows at his choice of words.

"But for our newbies, I'm the main host, Christian Grey and today with me is my new co-host,"

Wait, what? This bastard-a very sexy, good-looking bastard, don't get me wrong-is who I'm going to be co-hosting with for my duration at WZYX?

Ha! Great.

"Anastasia Steele-"

"It's Ana, I liked to be called Ana," I blurt out, then instantly regret it.

Shit! We're on live radio and I get snappy about my name?

Christian furrows his eyebrows and throws his arms out-which is universal language for "what the fuck?"

"Oh-kayy, Ana. Introduce yourself for our lovely audience."

"Well, Christian you just did that didn't you?"

He gives me the "what the fuck?" look again.

"As you can see, my co-host is uh, a peculiar one."

I quirk my eyebrows again.

"But tonight, we're taking in calls for the whole duration of the show and we'll be answering your questions."

Oh, this should be interesting.

"As our first caller, we have Angie. Welcome, Angie, what's your question?"

"Hi, Christian! Oh, gosh I'm actually talking to you! I'm such a huge fan!" Angie yells excitedly.

Maybe a little too excitedly. I roll my eyes.

_Calm down there, Angie. Don't cream your panties.._

Christian chuckles. "Nice to meet you too, Angie. What do you want to talk about today?"

"Well, Christian and uh.. Abba, that's your name right?"

I roll my eyes, really?

"No, it's Ana. Last time I checked, Abba was the name of a 70s disco band," I murmur, uninterested in whatever Angie has to say at the moment.

Christian smirks.

"Oh, yeah, Ana! Got it. Anyway, Christian and Ana, I'm having a problem getting excited."

My ears perk up. What did she just say?

"Elaborate on that, Angie," Christian says, leaning on the desk with his chin in his hands. He seems to be getting more interested in the conversation.

"Well.. Nothing turns me on anymore. I used to read erotic stories, but that's not working. There's nothing I can find that really does me right-"

My mouth falls open.

"And porn doesn't work either. It's more gross than arousing. I have the urge to pleasure myself but then when I get to it, it just doesn't feel right and then I can't reach orgasm. So what do you guys think?"

My eyes are nearly popping out of my head and my jaw has hit the floor. What the actual fuck? Is this some sort of.. Perverted radio show? I thought we would talk about pop culture, or political issues... Not how to get yourself off!

"Well, Ana since you're a woman how about you help Angie with this problem?" Christian suggests.

I glare at him. Is he doing this on purpose to make me uncomfortable?

I want to think so, but it's highly unlikely. He looks completely innocent as I gaze at him. It looks like he just wants me to be involved.

I take a deep breath. I don't know what kind of semi-pornographic, perverted operation is going on here, but I'm gonna have to go with it until the show is over.

"Do you have a man in your life, Angie?" I ask, my voice wobbly.

_This is so uncomfortable.._

"No," She answers

"Well, maybe your body is not reacting to your own touch anymore, and it's not reacting to artificial stimulants.

"You probably just need the touch of a real man and for him to stimulate you..." I answer awkwardly.

I want the ground to swallow me up. I can't believe I actually said that in front of a real audience! What if my dad is listening to this?

I cover my eyes and put my head on the desk.

"So what exactly are you telling me to do?" She asks.

_Is she fucking stupid_?

"I'm telling you to stop jacking off and reading porn. Stop being a perverted hermit and go find someone to have sex with. Bye, Angie!" I snap.

I disconnect the call and groan. This is going horrible. I won't be surprised if Mr. Smalls fires me tonight.

Christian is chuckling. I peer at him, enraged that he finds this funny!

"Oh, so you're laughing at me?" I ask bitterly.

"Yeah," he admits.

I can add rude to the list of things he is.

"You called her a pervert and yelled at her, Ana. That's pretty funny."

"No, it's not! I'm probably going to get fired," I whimper.

Gosh, this turned so bad, so quickly.

"Nah, you're the first female host we've had. Leonard sees something special in you.. And I don't really blame you. Angie was a tad bit annoying," he admits, laughing again.

I smirk. Just a teensy, tiny bit.

"Ugh, why didn't anyone tell me that this was going to be a sexual talk show. If I knew this was going to be a Howard Stern spin-off, I never would've applied."

"It's implied in the title, Anastasia. It's a late night show. All freaks come out at night."

_You got that right.._

"But I'm guessing you're uncomfortable with your sexuality and other's?"

What? What does that have to do with anything? I'm quite comfortable with myself, actually.

"Excuse me? First, that's an improper thing to ask, and secondly what makes you think that? It's not any of your business if you ask me," I reply indignantly.

Who does he think he is?

"If you were completely comfortable with sexuality you would have no problem with hosting this show. Instead, you're embarrassed and flustered. You even criticized a woman for masturbating-which is a totally natural and healthy activity to partake in," he states.

He leans back in his chair, his hands clasped in front of him.

He's waiting for my reply.

_Okay, you bastard. Two can play this game._

"No, I'm not uncomfortable with sexuality. I'm just a person who believes in keeping the aspects of my life private. I'm not going to go galavanting my private life to random strangers, and I'm not going to discuss theirs either. It's a matter of taste, and I'm a classy woman. Not just anyone is going to be able to know of my sexual life."

He smirks again. Gah, why does he keep doing that?! It pisses me off, but it's hot at the same time... I groan, not these thoughts again.

"Fair point well made, Anastasia. Perhaps you're right," he acquiesces.

"It's Ana! How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Well you say you're a classy woman, and Anastasia is a beautiful, high-class name. Ana, however, well... That's the kind of name you can find in a trailer park," he says innocently, but there's an undertone of sarcasm.

I gape. We are so not going to get along.

Mike bursts into the room, looking panicked. "Um, guys, you do know you're still on-air right?!" He sputters.

I pale. That completely slipped my mind.

Christian nods and waves him away, signaling he doesn't care.

"And for our next caller we have Jim. What can we do for you, Jim?" Christian asks politely, once again in professional mode.

I tune out whatever Jim is saying. His voice is nasally and ever annoying.

Our show went on for an hour and thirty minutes, and every second was exhausting. I've never had to answer such personal and sensual questions. It was awkward and I'm not quite sure how I feel about it.

How can Christian do this twenty-four seven? He must be a pervert.

After our show is over I'm exhausted and just want to go collapse in my bed. I'm not sure I want to work here. I'll have to talk to Mr. Smalls about what other options I have. Maybe I can be a sound technician like Mike. Ha, yeah right...

I ignore Christian after we're off-air. He is a self-righteous, cocky, smart- aleck jerk, at least while we're on-air. It's like he has this persona to uphold.

I burst out of the room, frustrated, tired, embarrassed, and angry.

"Ana! Ana!" Mr. Smalls calls after me.

Of course, this is the time I get fired. I butchered this whole show and I've only been on it a day.

As Mr. Smalls makes his way towards me, I was not prepared for the show of affection he graces me with. He embraces me in a sweat-filled hug, pulling back to kiss me on both cheeks.

Whoa, what's gotten into him?

"Ana! The shows ratings have increased by 13% and our audience has grown by 35%! I don't know what it is, but people can't seem to get enough of yours and Christians chemistry. The show must go on with the both of you."

The audience liked me and Christian together? We were arguing and insulting each other the whole time. How can that possibly be?

Then I think about reality tv and I know the answer immediately. People like conflict, which is exactly what me and Christian have.

I'm glad the show is doing great, but more time with Christian?

I roll my eyes. Just great.

* * *

**_If you're a radio-host, I apologize profusely for butchering your line of work. I have no idea how things like this work, so I'm hoping you guys can forgive me if there's any technical mistakes. So, this is a new story idea-yay or nay? _**

**_Comment any ideas that Christian and Ana could talk about on the show. What are your thoughts on Ana? On Christian? _**

**_Review xX_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**I developed a schedule for both my stories, so Let's Talk will be updated every Saturday. I may occasionally post twice in a week if I'm feeling extra motivated.**_

* * *

Normally, when someone strolls along a grocery aisle, there's usually something they want placed within the long line of shelves. But since I'm Anastasia Steele, there's always something bad lurking around the corner. The bad thing in my situation is Christian Grey.

"Ana, wait up!"

No, no, no.

With a roll of my eyes and sashay of my hips, I ignore his call and quickly pivot back towards the way I came. I get enough of him at work, which sucks ass by the way. Aren't people suppose to enjoy their first job? It's the job they'll reminisce about in their elderly age and smile, remembering all the fun times and mistakes along the way.

I'm not going to have anything to reminisce about, because the only thing that happens to me at WZYX, is I get embarrassed with the inappropriate questions people ask, Christian verbally abuses me-repeatedly, and I make a fool of myself when trying to answer those god-awful questions.

"I know you can hear me!"

"Yeah, I can hear you. That doesn't mean I have to answer," I grumble.

"That's rude of you," he breezed, as he grabbed my arm and arrived alongside me," you're supposed to answer when someone's talking to you."

His voice was velvety smooth, which just added to his appeal. It made me so sick, how gorgeous he was. God just wasted all the good looks on this man right here, when He could've graciously spread the wealth to people who need it-like me, for example.

"My mother told me that time is the most valuable asset you have, so don't waste it on those who don't matter," I smile as I turn towards him.

He laughs, his eyes turning a molten gray.

"This is why I adore you," he states, entwining our arms and leading us towards the meat section.

Ew. Gross. Faintly I think he knows how much I abhor meat and he's doing this to me on purpose, but that's highly unlikely. I haven't shared that info with him yet.

"Adore me?" I exclaim. "Right, because that's why you didn't stick up for me last night when Angie called for the third time and called me a twat."

"Oh, c'mon it was Angie. She scares the hell out of me," he murmured as he pulled a package of chicken wings out of the freezer.

_Ugh, disgusting._

"If she called you a twat I would-... Nope, actually I wouldn't, " I deadpanned, pulling my own package of food out of the freezer, but mine happened to be tofu.

"See, we're even. Even you wouldn't stand up to Angie, so why punish me for it?"

"Because you're an asshole," I stated, placing my tofu into my basket and strolling further down the aisle.

Christian followed, our arms still entwined. Does he do this to fuck with my head? He must get his kicks from being a douche to me and then later acting like an angel so that I forget his misdemeanors. Maybe that's the way it works for other girls, but I haven't forgotten his sour attitude towards me, even if he is being overly friendly today. Faintly, I wonder if he's bipolar.

"Me? Asshole? Never," he said, completely serious. He even topped off his statement with an utterly surprised and offended look.

"You called me an uptight, prude last night-which I'm not by the way."

"You said having one night stands was slutty! C'mon, that's like seventeenth century logic right there."

"It is slutty! Some girls should keep their meat flaps closed," I murmured solemnly.

I'm not a prude, I don't know why Christian thinks that. I don't have a problem with sex, I just believe in modesty. One night stands are completely unsafe-you don't know the person, he or she could have HIV/AIDS! And what if they get you pregnant? Now you're having some strangers kid. Call me whatever you want, but only a fool (or slut) would say that one night stands are completely okay.

"You're moving the feminist moment back a couple years, honey," Christian tsked, while shaking his head.

He wrapped his arm around my neck, leading us over to the pastry section. God, he smelled good. It's like he wrapped himself in cinnamon and honey, the perfect balance between sweet and spice. Inconspicuously, I take a long whiff of his scent and graciously bask in it.

_Gosh, I'm such a loser. _

I hate him. I really, really do. He's such an arrogant bastard, but everything about him still attracts me. It's really not fair. How can one person hold so much charm and appeal? And why am I being affected? I'm Anastasia Steele, the wonderwoman of intellect and common sense, not some random bimbo. I really should not be attracted to some typical alpha male, such as Christian.

"I disagree. Technically, I'm saying women shouldn't oppress themselves by bending to the will of a man just after they met him. Our bodies are worth so much more, we shouldn't just give ourselves to some random stranger, no matter how sexy he is. We do not have to submit so easily, we should make them fight for us. I think that's more feminist than saying we have the right to bonk anything we want to," I ranted, finishing my speech with a flourish.

My arms are outstretched, from my animated movements while I was defending my case. I get really into these things, I think the female body is a sacred and beautiful thing. While I was so engrossed into my tirade, I barely noticed Christian's lack of attention as he picked up multiple types of cookies, cakes, and other sweet treats.

His brow is furrowed in concentration as he looks at the ingredients and nutrition facts, completely oblivious to what the hell I just said. He places several items into his basket, still concentrating on the delights in front of him, not even noticing that I'm right next to him.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" I exclaim.

"What?" He asks, finally looking towards me, looking completely clueless.

I roll my eyes and turn away, taking my small basket of things towards the self-checkout counter. Christian jogs to catch up with me, sliding the basket out of my grip and placing it with his basket.

"What the hell?"

He ignores me and starts to ring up his stuff, along with mine. I narrow my eyes.

I'm not sure whether to feel flattered or offended.

"I'm not poor, ya know. I can afford six items," I murmur bitterly.

"I never said you were, I'm just trying to look like less of an asshole in your eyes."

He bags all of our stuff and places them into the baskets while I stand on the sidelines and watch. Hell, if he wants to pay for my stuff, so be it.

_More money for me..._

After everything is successfully ringed up, Christian takes out his wallet and pays for everything with his credit card-which is black by the way. A black card? Those things are made out of fucking stainless steel and has VIP benefits in over 3,000 hotels, with unlimited airfare.

_Radio hosts have black cards now..?_

Something tells me he's living off of much more than just his hosting salary. I quirk my eyebrows at him, he looks back and shrugs. Clearly, he's not going to give me an explanation.

"I see Leonard is paying you well," I commented, an air of sarcasm tastefully added in my voice.

"Well, I do offer him some special services on the side..." he joked, extremely convincing, however. It took me some time to realize he wasn't being serious.

I chuckled-despite the fact that I hate giving him the satisfaction of knowing he can make me laugh-and slapped his arm.

"You're disgusting."

He shrugs again, grey eyes shining.

"So, are you ready for tonight? It's a special show. I set it up just for you," he sang, a mischevious undertone prevelant in his words, as he wraps his arm back around my neck.

My head jerked towards him, my expression immediately horrified. Jesus Christ, what did he have planned? I could barely handle the weird and less than appropriate questions we got every night. Somehow, I know he's made tonight's show even more filthy than it already gets.

"I swear if it has anything to do with orgies or bondage, I'll vomit..."

Christian's face contorts into a peculiar emotion when I mention bondage, but it quickly disappears. Maybe he's repulsed by it just as much as I am.

"No, no orgies or bondage," he laughs. "Something much more special.."

"Shoot me now," I groan.

* * *

"Welcome to Late Night Talks on WZYX 99.7, I'm your main host Christian, and alongside me is my lovely-" _I roll my eyes_. "Co-host, Ana, _**not **_Anastasia."

"Thank you for that great intro, Christian," I remarked sarcastically.

"You're welcome-" _I'm pretty sure Christian was immune to sarcasm_, "But tonight's show is very special. I have teamed up with Ellora's Cave, a famous publishing house specializing in erotic literature-" _I groan _"and we're allowing you guys to read your original stories on air to have the chance to be professionally published," he finishes, his tone proud.

Well, I guess you could say I was impressed. How had Christian managed to team up with such a large publishing company? But then I realize that it's an _erotic _literature publishing house, founded by a woman who is obviously a _very _large fan of sex, and Christian is the epitome of sex on legs. With one smile her panties were probably dropping and with just a tad bit of flirting, she was most likely eating right out of the palm of his hand.

_Or maybe he was the one eating her..._

I grimance at my thoughts. Eww. This job is _so _tainting my once pure mind.

I put away my thoughts of Christian eating out _anyone _and for once decide to have faith in him. He is a charismatic man, he most likely got the publishing company to do business with WZYX because of his knowledge and good business tactics. Well, _hopefully _that's how he did it.

"How great is that, Ana?" Christian smirks and turns toward me.

I flip him off and put my face in my hand.

"Just brilliant," I start, "One lucky person will be published and I get to spend the whole night listening to porn. I'm a happy woman," I finish off with an eye roll and the sugary sweetest tone of voice I could muster up.

"Great! So, for our first caller, we have Barbie. Hiya, Barbie," Christian greets playfully, putting on a fake accent so he sounds like that guy from the song.

"Hi, Ken," she exclaims, in the same fake ass accent that Christian did, giggling flirtatiously.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. This is going to be unbearable, I just know it. Mike walks down the hall, peeking in on us just to make sure everything is running smoothly. I rejoice in seeing a normal person whom I actually like, and wave at him eagerly. He smiles and waves back.

"How's it going?" he mouths.

I mimick a gun with my fingers and point it toward my head, mimicking pulling the trigger with my thumb. He chuckles, "good luck," he mouths and waves, leaving the room just as quickly as he came.

_No, come back.._

"So, what's your story called?"

"It's called _A Midnight Ride," _she answers, in the same fake, husky voice she's been putting on since she first called in.

"Oh my god.." I complain underneath my breath.

_Kill me now.._

I tune her out. I just don't have the patience, nor the interest in listening to her disgusting, fake voice. The sound nearly gives me a headache, and I definitely don't want to listen her pornographic fantasies. The only fantasies I would be remotely interested in are my own, but of course those don't exsist.

"Wow, that was great for it to be your first story, Barbie," Christian praises, his face looking a little flushed.

Ugh, he really cannot be turned on right now. I scowl at him.

_Pervert.._

"What did you think, Ana?" He asks, training his glare on me.

"It sucked, I doubt you'll win. Thanks for calling, Barbie!" I deadpan and end the call.

Christian shakes his head.

"Well, guys, I think we have our own personal Simon Cowell here at WZYX. Somebody will eventually impress you, though," he remarks.

"I doubt that.." I whisper.

"For our next caller we have... Gina. Hello, Gina, how are you?"

"Great! Just excited to be able to read my story on here. I've been dying for you guys to hear it," Gina has a thick country accent, which is actually kind of cute on her.

Hmm, I like her. She seems more normal than the other weirdos who call here every night.

My eyebrows quirk and now I'm slightly intrigued. If the competition was just announced twenty minutes ago, why would she have been "dying" for us to hear it?

"Oh, that's interesting," Christian says, just as interested as I am, "What's your story about?"

"Well, it's called _Inevitable Attraction... _And it's actually about you and Ana.." Gina giggles nervously and my face scrunches into the most skeeved out expression possible.

Dear god, people are writing erotic stories about me now?!

_I need to get a new job.._

Christian, however, erupts into the most excited and amused laughter possible. His eyes are glowing and it looks as if... He's enjoying this. He's fidgeting in his seat, extremely anxious for her to read her story about.. Us.

How could he find pleasure in this? Some complete stranger was writing wicked fantasies about him. It was... creepy. I'm so embarrassed, I don't even think I have the courage to respond.

"Oh now you've got me intrigued. Go ahead and read it."

"Or not. Ya know, you don't neccesarily have to-"

My sentence is interupted by Christian's harsh shushing. What is this, kindergarten? Since when did we _shush _people? I glare at him, but shut my mouth anyway.

"Okay," Gina says, giggling again.

It's really not that funny, I don't see how she sees any of this as humorous, but nonetheless she starts her story...

* * *

**A/N: X-rated material starts here, so if that's not your cup of tea, then I advise you to leave now.. Or just skip to the end.**

_Christian unlocked the door to his apartment, barging into the open space with a heavy sigh. Today had been a long one for him, and all he wanted to do was collapse into the bed and sleep like the dead. _

_He threw his keys onto the countertop nearest the entryway, and slipped his shoes off at the door. It was still dark inside of his apartment, so he decided it was best to turn on the lights now before he made it any deeper inside of his house._

_He flicked the switch on the left side of the door, and the sight in front of him made his breath hitch and his heart almost stop. It also managed to create a stirring in his pants._

Was this really happening? _He asked himself, convinced that this was completely a dream, or just a vivid hallucination. Maybe this is what happens after you miss a couple hours of sleep. That had to be the explanation, because there could be no way that the ever innocent, prudish, repressed Anastasia Steele could be in his living room at this moment. There was no way that she could be tied to a chair, her hair put into pigtails, her shirt only buttoned halfway, exposing the pale, milky flesh of her breasts._

_No, just no. Impossible._

_There was no way that she could be looking at him with such desire in her eyes. Such heat, passion and mischief so present in her orbs, ready to burst through to the surface. _

_She smiled devilishly at him, licking her lips-which was coated with scarlet red lipstick. Everything about her in this moment-even down to the color of her lipstick-screamed sin. Complete, unadultured, lustful sin..._

_And Christian was enjoying every minute of it._

_"Oh, Sir.. Can you please untie me?" She begged in a sweet voice, batting her eyelashes at him._

_She wiggled her arms slightly against her binds, demonstrating how much she wanted to be freed. _

_"My body is feeling awfully tight. I just need some relief.." She murmured huskily, moving against her binds again, giving soft, strained paints for theatrical purposes._

_"Ana..." Christian breathed. _

_He didn't even know where to start. For one, how did she get in here? Secondly, why would she be doing this? She made no effort to hide how much she hated him, and she wasn't a bold, sexual person. It didn't make any sense why she would offer herself to him in this manner. It went against her whole personality._

_But it didn't have to make sense to Christian. All he wanted was to enjoy this precious moment._

_He threw his inhibitions out the window and stalks closer to her. As he reaches her, he pulls on the rope constricting her to the chair. He tsks._

_"You didn't do your research, Anastasia. This type of fiber will chafe," he admonishes. "If you're going to do something, do it right."_

_"I'm so sorry, Sir," Ana feigns remorse. "What are you going to do?" She breathes, licking her lips in anticipation._

_Christian pulls on her binds forcefully, causing the chair to scoot towards him. Ana yelps in surprise, her eyes getting wide with longing._

_"Hush," Christian demands, successfully quieting the girl._

_Ana obeys immediately, her heart rate skyrocketing. Being at his complete mercy was filling her body with lust so strong every inch of her skin was tingling. Christian felt much the same, the stirring in his pants becoming a full tent. His member stood rock hard and at attention, desperately wanting to be freed._

_Christian walked behind Ana, quickly undoing her trusses. As she was freed, her wrists and ankles held red marks from where the rope had dug into her skin. Seeing the sight made Christian growl._

_Christian grabbed her pigtails, forcing her to face him and stare directly into his eyes._

_"Look what you did to your skin." The harsh tone of his voice made Ana gulp. "Stand up and turn around."_

_She completed the action quickly, wanting to please Christian._

_He led her over to the piano, gently pushing on the small of her back to guide her to wherever he wanted her to go. Ana's slightly exposed stomach brushed against the cool iron of the piano, causing her to shiver and her nipples to harden. She gasped, her senses being further heightened than they already were. She groaned and swallowed, silently begging him to touch her. She didn't dare voice those thoughts, however, because he didn't give her permission to talk._

_"Bend over," he commanded._

_Ana did so without a second thought. Christian slowly lifted up Ana's skirt, caressing the soft, pale skin of her buttocks. It made Ana skirm and groan, seeking more contact._

_"Stay still," he whispered in her ear, pressing himself into her. Ana felt his cock slide against the apex of her thighs, causing her to moan and grind harder into him, disobeying his order to stay still._

_Christian growled and on instinct swatted her behind. Simultaneously they both inhaled sharply. He wasn't sure that she would like being hit. He froze, waiting for her reaction. Ana turned her head towards him, a crooked grin on her face similar to the chesire cat's._

_"Don't stop now," she sighed._

_Christian's member twitched and his eyes glazed over with desire. He didn't know where the Anastasia Steele he knew went, but he was glad this newer version of her was here to take her place._

_His hand reared back, and he slapped it down onto Ana's rear end with force, turning her milky flesh a pale pink. She moaned, the high pitched sounds spurring Christian on. He continued, each time harder and quicker than the last. _

_Ana's sounds of pleasure filled up his apartment and caused Christian's already solid erection to become even harder. He felt as if he was going to burst through his pants as he strained against the fabric of his jeans._

_"Harder," Ana groaned, panting as wetness pooled in her thighs._

_Christian jerked Ana's head back by pulling on her pigtails._

_"Harder what?" He hissed._

_"Harder, please, Sir," she screeched._

_Christian granted her wish, much to the delight of Ana. Her whole body was shaking, her hands gripping so forcefully onto the piano that her knuckles were as white as snow. It was a wonder that the piano didn't crumble underneath her force._

_He moans were becoming even louder now, almost to the point of screams. Christian looked at her flesh, the once white skin a bright red. The sight almost caused him to faint._

Glorious... Absolutely, glorious..

_Christian couldn't take anymore. He needed freedom, and most importantly he needed release. His whole body was wired up tight, each nerve ending ready to explode. It was as if his darkest fantasies of Ana were becoming true. _

_He unbuttoned his pants, his cock springing free from the confinements of his trousers. He groaned, god it felt nice. The cool air of his apartment made his body tingle, especially the instrument protruding from his thighs._

_Ana turned around and smirked, thoroughly pleased with the sight in front of her. She reached out and touched him, wrapping her hand around him and giving one long, hard stroke. Christian threw his head back in pleasure, a guttural sound erupting from his throat._

_Ana continued, and with each movement of her wrist, Christian was slowly pushed closer to the edge. _

_"Does Sir like this?" She asked innocently, whispering into his ear._

_"Yes," Christian could barely formulate a response. The only thing he could focus on was the sensation emanating from his nether regions._

_She flicked her wrist faster, her hands slippery and coated from the fluids leaking from Christian's member._

_"Looks like you made a mess," Ana chided. "I'll clean it up," she moaned._

_Ana dropped down onto her knees in front of Christian. With his shaft still in her hands, she licked from the base of his penis all the way to the top, swirling her tongue around the tip. Christian hissed, fisting his hand in Ana's hair. Somehow along the way her pigtails had come undone._

_She took him fully into her mouth, the warm and moist insides of her lips driving Christian wild. Ana licked off every inch of fluid from his package, bobbing up and down. Not once did she break eye contact with Christian, her eyes bright and wicked. Even with her mouth full, the smirk on her face was evident. _

_Christian flexed his hips, deathly near to his release. The slippery feeling of him inside Ana's mouth was making it hard for him to keep it together. His whole body was alight with feeling, his arms coated with goosebumps, his heart speeding rapidly, his breathing erratic. His member felt like it was going to burst, his cock tingling and burning with fiery passion. He moaned, pushing Ana's head further down. _

_Ana stroked him while continuing her ministrations with her mouth. Nearing Christian's release, she unsheathed her teeth, scraping it along Christian's shaft. This action pushed him off the precipice, stars bursting behind his eyes. He exploded into Ana's mouth, his juices spurting from the tip in long streams. Ana swallowed every inch, smiling in delight. _

_"Tastes like ice cream," she giggled. "Here, taste." She wiped off a small portion with her finger, which had leaked from her mouth onto her chin and offered it to Christian. _

_Reluctantly, he allowed her to stick her finger into his mouth, suckling onto the tip._

Hmm, vanilla.

_He grinned._

_"Told ya so," she sang._

_She kissed the tip of Christian's penis, buttoning him back into his pants. She grabbed her hair ties and rearranged her skirt and shirt. Christian's brow furrowed._

_Where was she going?_

_"Wait, what are you doing?" He asked, grabbing her waist and spinning her around. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled._

_"I'm saving that for another day," she answers._

_She kisses him long and hard, their tongues wrestling for dominance. She bites his lip before pulling away._

_"Do you like strawberries?" She asks out of the blue._

_Christian frowns._

_"Yes, why?"_

_"Because that's my flavor," she whispers huskily, before walking out his apartment door, her hips sashaying._

_Christian stands in the middle of his living room, his mouth ajar._

I don't know what the fuck just happened, but I hope there's more to come, _he thinks to himself._

* * *

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

Did I really just hear what I think I've just heard? This Gina chick is completely delusional and screwed in the head. I mean, that was the most vile thing I've ever heard in my life. I would never... Do those things.. With anyone! Especially not Christian.

But..

It was kind of nice to think about.. And kind of nice to hear..

_Jesus, what is going on with me?_

I squirm in my chair and my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Oh, my god.. Really? I ignore the liquid that's formed _down there. _

_I am such a pervert... I am such a pervert.._

I look over at Christian and he has the biggest, shit-eating grin on his face. I gasp. His grin is not the thing that get's my attention, however, it's his eyes. His eyes are the darkest I've ever seen them, coated with an emotion I can't quite name.

_Those eyes... Oh my._

He winks at me when he catches me looking.

"I have to say, Gina that was... Amazing. We should just cancel the competition now and name you the winner," Christian praises.

"Aww, that's so sweet," Gina gushes. "I thought you would've been weirded out. I'm so relieved you liked it!"

"I loved it," he enthuses. "What did you think, Ana?" He asks, looking at me.

His eyes are still the dark, stormy grey I'm not used to. I'm momentarily stunned, my mouth becoming dry.

_Snap out of it, Steele! Stop being a horndog._

"Oh, um.. Yeah. Yeah, it was.. Interesting. I don't really get into stuff.. Like that-" My voice cracks and Christian chuckles. "But, yeah. Yeah.. If anyone had to win I would say it would be you. Yeah," I babble on.

Ugh, I mentally face palm myself. I sound like one of those stupid bimbos who say "like" after every word. I can't even form a sentence properly, what the fuck is going on with me?!

"Aw, thanks Ana," Gina replies shyly.

"Well, we're going to have a short commercial break, thanks for submitting your story, Gina!" Christian announced.

"You're welcome, bye!"

The line goes dead and the commercial break starts. I fiddle with my fingers because I don't have the courage to face him. I mean, technically we just had... Oral sex, according to Gina. I felt weird around him, mostly because.. I liked the thought of doing that.

_Ew, ew, ew._

This job really is corrupting me.

Christian senses my unease and rubs my shoulder soothingly. I get goosebumps from where he touched me.

_That did not help. That just made me _more _uneasy._

"It's just a story, Ana," he says.

"I know," I reply. "You told me there wouldn't be any bondage," I grumble.

"At least there wasn't any orgies," he replies.

There's a long pause before either of us talks again. Of course the first one would be Christian.

"Soo," he draws out. "Wanna reenact that this weekend?" He teases, a crooked, cocky grin on his face.

_There's the Christian I know and hate._

"In your dreams, asshole," I reply, a small smile on my face, and suddenly, everything is back to normal again.

* * *

_**So, that was my very first lemon. I felt so dirty writing it, I had to pretend I was Gina just to get it done. Lol. So, was this chapter a yay or a nay? Was my lemon at least decent? Oh, and I need more topics for Ana and Christian to talk about on their show. I can't think of any. **_

_**Thanks for following, favoriting and reviewing.**_

_**XxXx**_


	3. Chapter 3

I'm here too early. There's no one I know in sight, just some newbie gophers and interns. I've never actually shown up to work early since the whole time I've been here. I mean, of course I have never been late, but today I'm here a whole hour before our show comes on.

Maybe it's because I have nothing to do at home since Kate's away. She's on some self-finding expedition in South Africa. She needs to "cleanse" and "revamp" her spiritual side. I call bullshit on that one. She's just terrified that she lost her intuition because her last journalistic report got bad reviews. I tried to tell her that every great writer will always receive criticism, but she insisted that she needed to take a trip away no matter what I said.

Hmm, what it would be like to be Kate Kavanaugh. She's rich, beautiful, and confident. She takes no shit from anyone and does whatever she pleases-such as dropping every responsibility she has in order to take a trip to a foreign country over 500,000 miles away. And you know why she can do that?

Because she's Kate Kavanaugh.

But I'm Anastasia Steele, a woman who prefers to stay _inside _her home country, which is why I'm at work an hour early with nothing better to do than people-watch. When you're used to being an outcast, you kind of make it a habit to watch other people. Observe them. If you can't be the one out there getting things done, then the next best option is to be the one on the outside looking in.

It taught me how to read people. I can tell when people are hiding something, or faking who they really are. When people think there's no one watching, they get sloppy. They let their real selves slip. I know that because that intern across from me is being as friendly as possible to his boss, despite how much of a prick his boss really is. His smiles aren't reaching his eyes, his body is rigid and not as open and loose as you would be around someone you're comfortable with. And to top it off, as soon as his boss is gone his smile evaporates in a nanosecond. Genuine smiles take at least three seconds to fade completely.

I bet you ten bucks that intern is going to spit in his boss's coffee later.

My eyes scan the room again, trying to find my next victim to analyze. My eyes fall on a tall man with slicked back blonde hair. I probably would have looked away if the man wouldn't have turned around.

My breath hitched as his eyes made contact with mine.

_It's the guy from my first day!_

What the hell is he doing back? I could have sworn Leonard was going to fire him after that fight he had with Christian.

His eyes are still the same shade of blue as I remember them, the ominous look buried deep beneath his orbs. His scar stares back at me, the jagged pink line just screaming out danger.

There is something off about this man. I can tell. Even the way he walks is just... Weird. Unnatural. His body is thin and wiry, almost making him look gawky. That would fool other people-it would make them think that he's weak, but I can tell from that fight that he is most definitely strong.

There's something hiding within him, writhing and twisting, trying to get it's way out. Something darker and more mysterious than I could imagine...

_Good God, did I really just say that?_

Anastasia Steele: Part-time Psychic.

I roll my eyes at myself. Yeah, the guy's a creep but maybe I'm taking this whole "reading people" thing a little bit too far.

I turn away from the blonde-haired man and try to focus on something else.

The entrance door to our station slams open. My eyes flicker towards the movement, and lo and behold, God's gift to women strolls through.

_Ugh, another night of terror is approaching._

Christian swaggers in, his body poised and just oozing with arrogance and a small hint of sex appeal. I purse my lips. I don't know who he's trying to impress, there's only, like, three girls who work here and I'm currently the only one here yet.

_Christian Grey putting on a show for me? Oh, aren't I just flattered._

His office is down the hall to the right, but he doesn't turn that way. His eyes lock with mine and a slow smirk appears on his lips. Of course, instead of leaving me alone and going to do some _actual _work, he keeps going straight to where I'm standing.

I chew on my lip-I feel off today. Now would be the time where we berate each other with insults and insincere compliments, but I just don't feel like myself. Dare I say it... I feel kind of shy. Of course, I am shy, but _Christian's _never made me feel anything besides anger and the overwhelming need to be sarcastic... And maybe just a tad bit uncomfortable with all of his sexpertise he likes to display on the show.

He strolls alongside of me, a cocky grin on my face. Today I would mirror his look, but just don't feel the need to today. His scent evades my senses, swirling around our bubble of space and overpowering every other smell present in the studio.

_Cinnamon and Vanilla..._

I breathe it in-it's so intoxicating. If I could, I would bottle it up and sell it. Hell, I'd be rich enough to quit this job and never work again.

"Delicious, right? I don't even use cologne," he gloats, leaning against the wall, slightly grinning at my not-so discrete adoration of his scent.

I snort. Does he ever come off his high horse?

"I was sniffing the air because you just polluted it with your _god-awful _scent. It smells like horse manure," I cross my arms, turning away from him.

"Shut up, you know you love it," he teases, poking my in the side of my stomach.

I jump, clutching my side. I grimace. I'm still _very _ticklish on that part of my body.

"Whatever. Keep deluding yourself if that's what makes you happy," I shoot back.

"Did you delude yourself into thinking those jeans looked good on you?" He asks, his face completely serious.

I gape. Wow. I don't even think I have a response decent enough for what he just said.

_Christian Grey: 1, Anastasia Steele: 0_

So instead of responding, I take the cowards way out and walk away. He can make fun of himself now. I'm so not in the mood right now.

"Oh,c'mon! I was just joking!" He calls out from behind me.

I shake my head-jokes are supposed to be funny. That didn't make me laugh.

At all.

I check the clock on the wall-thirty minutes until the show starts. Hmm, I'll go check on Mike and see what he's up to.

I walk to the end of the hall and press the "up" button on the wall as I wait for the elevator. Me and Mike have become close these past few weeks. He's a good kid and fun to be around. Unlike the _green goblin _downstairs, he doesn't insult me. When we talk, we actually make each other feel good about ourselves. I think that's one of the most important things to have in a friendship.

The elevator pings as the doors slide open. I step in, pressing "2" so I can reach the second floor.

"Hold the elevator!" A velvety voice calls out.

Oh, hell no.

I jam the close button as fast as I can. Ugh, I want to be as _far _away from Christian as I can, not share a confined space with him.

The fucking door won't close and Christian is almost here. His long, lean legs help him get to the elevator just in time for him to slide through the doors.

_He kind of looks good running... But I'll never tell him that._

His hair flops in front of his face from him running down here. He glides his hands through his hair, putting the strand back in place. Even though his hair is always unkempt, it's like there's a certain pattern to it, as if every strand has a specific order it belongs in, to make it just that perfect balance between styled and unruly.

"So we meet again," he smiles at me, his teeth glistening in the shadowy lights of the elevator.

"No, actually, you stalked me down here just so that we could 'accidentally' run into each other," I mumble, crossing my arms again.

I read somewhere that crossing your arms was a sign of closing yourself off from other people in order to protect yourself.

_Do I need protection from Christian? _

"In the thirteenth century, a young prince would stalk down the woman of his affection and leave her small gifts anonymously before asking permission to court her. The princes would often leave the gifts in small intimate places, where only his affection could find them," he states, his eyes glowing as he looks at me.

My breath gets caught in my throat and I quickly look away. It is something about that look that just... gets me every time and I secretly hate myself for it. I will not allow myself to be sucked into Christian's charm just like all of those other women that fall at his feet.

I fiddle with a loose string on my shirt. Something in the atmosphere has changed... It's like an electric current circling around the room, silent sparks of static exploding through the room. It's stifling, uncomfortable... Heady.

I bite my lip and peer over at Christian. He's still looking at me, his eyes never left in the first place. I wonder if he can feel it too, and by one look at him.. I know he can.

My throat is getting dry as I try to take in deep breaths.

_How fucking long does it take to get to the second floor?_

As if the elevator itself could hear my thoughts, I hear a loud _ping _as the doors slide open once again.

I dodge out as soon as I can, needing to get away from _whatever _it is that's in that elevator. I flee into the ladies restroom and splash some cool water onto my face. My hands are gripping the edge of the marble sink, my knuckles turning white from the intense grasp I have on it.

_Jesus, what was that?_

I don't even think Jesus has the answer to that question. I take a couple of deep breaths to steady myself until I feel normal again. I gaze into the mirror, not surprised from the sight that's in front of me. My eyes are too big for my face, which offsets everything else. Not to mention the pale complexion that's made worse from the milky flourescent lights filtered above the sink.

I put some effort into my appearance today. I actually did my hair for once, which completely freakin' sucked by the way. I burnt myself three times just trying to put a few simple curls into my hair. I guess the boredom got to me and I wanted to try something new.

Damn that Kate Kavanaugh for being away.

I take a cloth that's decorated across the countertop and blot my face with it, soaking up the water I splashed on my face. Some color starts to filter back into my cheeks, and I look semi-decent again, so I guess it's time to leave the bathroom and start to do what I came up here for anyway.

Mike's office isn't far from the bathrooms, just turn left and there it is. I see a head of dusty blonde hair, which I can only assume must be Mike. I knock lightly on the door and his head swings around. He smiles brightly, the corner of his eyes crinkling slightly.

I smile back, blushing slightly. The way Mike smiles at me.. It's like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. It makes me feel special, maybe just a little too special. Mike _is_ very cute, in a boyish sort of way, but I don't think I could actually see myself with him. Nor could I ever smile at him like he smiles at me.

"Hey, Ana!" He comes by the door and scoops me up into a hug. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, just trying to get away from Copperhead," I murmur, waving my hand in anguish.

Copperhead is our nickname for Christian. As you can see, it's very apt.

"Being an asshole again?" Mike asks as he fiddles with some high-tech trinket I'd never be able to understand.

"Ugh, always."

I lean against the doorway, my shoulder holding me up. I can see the dedication in Mike's eyes as he works, which is another reason I like him so much. It's the same way I feel about being a host-I love to talk and explore topics unheard of. I love to share my opinion, debate with people and inform the others out there that might not know about what's going on in the world. Hosting is my passion, something I've always dreamed about. But Late Night Talks isn't what I was expecting. At first, it was just downright unbearable, but I can deal with it now. And the fire and passion I have is starting to return with every show Christian and I do.

"You need to cut him down to size, Ana. Show him you're not to be messed with."

"I do! But he's unstoppable. He has a life's supply of arrogance and a keen skill of being annoying. He's like one of those little boys who goes around pulling the other little girl's pigtails during recess," I rant.

"Well, maybe he likes you," Mike shrugs, turning to face me again. "Or maybe you like him," he mutters more to himself than me. He frowns and looks away, an emotion I can't place streaking across his face.

I scowl.

"I don't like him," I argue, wishing my voice was more convincing.

_Well... I don't like him _that _much. Except for those eyes... And that hair.._

I snap out of my inner ramblings.

Mike smiles at my words, his face returning to normal.

"Good," he says. "There's tons of guys out there much better for you."

I cock my eyebrow.

"Such as?" I ask.

"I dunno know.." he trails off. "Maybe a nice doctor. Or a carpenter who's a family man. Or maybe someone who shares the same passion as you."

He stands up and walks over to me.

"Lots of people could be better than him, ya know?"

We stare at each other. I can't help but feel that Mike is suggesting something, even though his words sound like he's just being helpful. It didn't occur to me until now, that we're also standing extremely close together-our noses almost touching.

"If you two are done, I have a show to host," a voice grumbles out.

I turn around and a very bitchy looking Christian glares back at me.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Bye, Mike," I say, getting ready to leave.

Before I can, Mike places a kiss on my cheek. I blush. Umm... He's never done that before.

"Bye, Ana. Good luck."

I stroll out of his office seemingly confused. What the hell? He's never kissed me on the cheek, what's so different today.

I walk out with Christian, who's jaw is tense and body rigid. I've never seen him like this, he's usually always so carefree and calm. It must be something in the water-all the men have turned crazy today.

"You know, you shouldn't mix business with pleasure," he grits out, jabbing the elevator button with more force than necessary.

"I'm not?" I say, confused as to why he thinks that. Mike is just my second best-friend.

"Right, because there's nothing going on between you two?" He accuses, turning towards me, his face pinched in anger.

His eyes are a stormy grey, dark flecks glowing throughout his orbs.

Hmm, for some reason the thought of being with Mike pisses him off. I inwardly smirk. Oh, yes, this is going to be fun. I don't know what it is, but those two really hate each other.

"Is it really any of your business?" I state nonchalantly, examining my fingernails as if I could care less about Christian's attitude right now.

He opens his mouth but closes it again, not sure what to say. He does this several times more, looking like a gaping fish. I cock my eyebrow.

_Cat got your tongue?_

With one last glare he turns away, calling out over his shoulder, "You can ride this, I'm taking the stairs."

* * *

"We're now taking our first caller, please say hello to Leona-which is a lovely name by the way," Christian says, throwing on the charm.

Ugh, can he _not _be a slag for just one second?

"Hello, Christian... Anastasia," Leona greets, but when she says my name there is a hint of contempt hidden between her words.

_What the hell did I do to her?_

"It's Ana," I shoot back, with just as much contempt.

"My apologies." Her voice is sickly sweet, but not at all sincere.

"Well, Leona, you have called on a very special day here at Late Night Talks. We're playing our own version of _Truth or Dare, _with our audience as the players.

"That sounds fun," she observes.

"It will be. Now, Leona you can either choose to ask _us, _or we can ask you. Whichever one you want," Christian explains.

"I'll ask you guys. That's more fun."

"Oh, goody," I murmur with sarcasm.

"Truth or Dare, Anastasia," she asks out of nowhere, startling me momentarily.

"Ana... and Truth," I say, suspicious of where this could be going.

I've always hated this game, ever since I was five and Kate dared me to eat raw cinnamon. I was coughing up cinnamon for two weeks straight. Until this day, I always choose truth.

"What's your biggest regret?" She asks.

I furrow my eyebrows. Why would she ask me that. I swallow back bile that's rising in my throat thinking about what she's asked me. There's only one thing I regret, and of course I'm not going to tell the whole world one of my darkest secrets.

Nobody knows about it except for me, and I'd prefer to keep it that way.

I clear my throat, pushing the memory back down to the most unvisited place in my head.

"I once got drunk and drank a whole bottle of hot sauce, thinking that it was a strawberry smoothie."

That ordeal actually did happen, despite it not being my biggest regret. But every orifice of my body was burning for a whole month. Everybody who lived in my dorm started calling me Chilli Pepper.

"Are you sure that's your biggest regret?"

I grimace.

"Yes," I grit out.

"I'm disappointed. I thought you would have something more _interesting _to offer."

"Well, I'm not an interesting person. Thanks for calling."

I end the call, thoroughly shaken up. Leave it to one of the crazy callers we get every night to bring up some bad memories I don't want to think about. My stomach roils as I think about what just happened.

Call me paranoid, but something just didn't feel right about that whole situation. I just feel like she was deliberately trying to push my buttons. Or maybe she knows something.

"Are you okay?" Christian asks, the first thing he's said to me since he stormed off earlier.

"Yeah," I say, but even I don't believe it.

The show goes on and I'm barely listening to what the audience is talking about. My head is still swimming from what Leona said. She was seriously creepy and I keep over-analyzing everything-which is one of my bad habits. Or maybe I'm just being ridiculous. It was a typical question you would ask during truth or dare so I have nothing to worry about.. I hope.

"I dare you to kiss Ana."

That sentence surely snaps me out of my trance. My jaw drops. I can't say I'm shocked, however, since our callers do have this weird fantasy that Christian and I are going to ride off in the sunset together and live happily ever after.

Isn't that just ridiculous?

Christian turns towards me.

"It's a dare-I have to do it," he shrugs.

"Like hell you do! I have a say in this too-"

Before I can even finish my sentence, his lips touch mine in a soft, yet chaste kiss. His lips are smooth and satiny, fitting perfectly with mine.

"God, you're such a drama queen. Was that so hard?" He asks.

I shake my head. I guess it wasn't.

I touch my lips, feeling a tingling sensation. I have goosebumps, even though it only lasted a quick second. I bite my lip. I'm not sure this is the reaction I should have. I shouldn't care at all... Not replaying the scenario over and over in my head. Nor should I have butterflies fluttering away in my stomach.

I try to pay attention to the rest of the show, but I can't. So I surrender to daydreaming, the butterflies caressing my insides with the flutter of their wings.

* * *

I'm still in a daze as I walk out of the building, tightening my coat around me. The air is brisk as it whips across my face, stinging my cheeks. The first coat of fresh snow sticks to the ground as I walk through the parking lot looking for my car.

Today was such a weird day. I didn't feel like myself-hell, nobody really felt like themselves. I mean.. I got kissed today. _Two _times. By two different men... Good looking men, at that. That's more than I got my whole high school career. I shake my head.

It must be the snow.

The snowflakes stick to my nose, their intricate designs melting within seconds. I've always loved the snow. It was so beautiful, only occurring when there was just the perfect conditions. The snowflakes remind me of myself-something completely unique and different from all the others, just not easily seen by everybody else.

"Ana."

I scream as a warm hand touches my shoulder. I turn around, clutching my chest.

"You scared the hell out of me," I murmur.

"Sorry... I just wanted to say goodnight. And you're right, whatever you do with Mike is none of my business," Christian says, his eyes and voice sincere.

Wow. He doesn't look like the type who can apologize easily. I think I might've just earned an ounce of respect for him.

"Oh, well... Thanks. Goodnight," I whisper.

He nods and walks away.

"Wait!" I call out after him.

He turns around, puzzled while I called him back.

"There's nothing going on between us. I just thought you should know."

He nods again, turning away, but for a split second I swear I see a trace of a smile across his face.

I open my car door, sliding into the seat. I immediately turning on the heat. It's deathly cold in my car. As I wait for the car to warm up, I look over to the passenger seat and am perplexed at what I see. A small red box. I pick up the box, examining it in my hand. I know it's not mine, since I've never seen the box before. I'm slightly afraid to open it, wondering how it would've gotten here. More importantly, who the hell has been in my car?!

Swallowing my fear, I gently open the box, anxious to see what's inside. A set of sterling silver earrings stare back at me. They're gorgeous. So beautiful they almost take my breath away.

How the hell did these get here?

* * *

_**This chapter came so easily to me. I want to thank my loyal readers/followers for sticking with me and reviewing. You guys give great feedback and I'm very thankful for you all. **_

_**Did anybody catch the foreshadowing and symbolism I hid in this chapter? I was trying to be artsy.**_

_**XxXx**_


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